Disclaimer: I don't own any of the POTC movies or the original characters. All I own is my imagination and the plot.

A/N: Here it is, the story I've been working on for about a week, not because it was a complicated or complex one to write, but because I wanted everything just right, the wording, the feel of the characters and, most importantly, the interaction between them, so I hope that you won't be disappointed.

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Unpromised

''Tell me all of your lies, honey.''

As the Black Pearl lay anchored in Tortuga's harbor, that was neither properly lit and lay deserted, the town that was centered behind it was as alive as it could be, buzzing with drinking and drunk pirates and more than enough ladies of the evening who were willingly taken advantage of to go around, a too animate and bright setting against a starry skied backdrop. Elizabeth Swann preferred the glossed over sight of the latter, one that went well with the inanimate stretch of water before her and the amiable ocean breeze that managed to get a hold of her hair whenever she leaned over the ship's railing too far. The smell of salt lingered all around her and even stuck to her, something that was inescapable after having spent so long without setting foot on land. It was by choice this time; she couldn't imagine herself going onto that wretched piece of land and trading in the salt for alcohol and common sense for a drunken perspective, one that shepherded Captain Jack Sparrow up the gangway each and every time, taking aboard a different beauty whenever they made port in Tortuga (though Elizabeth doubted that the place the women came from mattered), each more promiscuous than the other.

This night was just like the others, and so was the girl that trailed behind the Captain as he stumbled aboard in his drunken state. Elizabeth turned her head a little, her by the wind disarrayed locks reaching almost to her waist as she snuck what was supposed to be a quick glance over her shoulder, although her gaze chose to linger on the (too) young woman that Jack had come to fancy for the evening. She was beautiful, enviously so with her fairest of skins, flawless in the moonlight, her fiery red hair and the green dress that only complimented it. She was gorgeous.

Elizabeth looked down at her own attire that hung loosely from her body, doing it no justice at all. Her hair was a mess and her skin, once just as fair as the red-head, was now lightly tanned from the hours she had spent out in the burning sun. Long gone was the dolled up governor's daughter. She pulled at the top buttons of her shirt, undid two, looked down and began chewing on her bottom lip. It made no difference; gone was also the cleavage that the corsets used to provide her with. She crossed her arms and brought her head back up, her mouth opening in a silent gasp and taking a clumsy step back as she came to find Jack looking at her. He tipped his hat like a gentleman would and winked at her before escorting his lady friend into his cabin.

Elizabeth uncrossed her arms, leaned back against the ship's railing and slid down until she was in a sitting position with her legs up to her chest. She tried not to look at his cabin, but her eyes were drawn to it and there was really nothing else to do, besides going to sleep, but she was far from tired, or that was how she justified staying where she was, telling herself that she wasn't trying to listen for whatever sounds that may come out of the Captain's cabin. She didn't know why she cared or wanted to know about what was going inside it, but she just appeared to be frozen, unable to move, not wanting to move until she was certain of what had happened, to see if the assumptions that she had made had been right. And when the door of the cabin opened and the woman slipped out of it like a thief in the night, hair undone, make-up smudged and dress only half buttoned, together with the pleased smile she carried and the stars in her eyes, Elizabeth knew that Jack had proven her right.

Before she knew it she had begun to cry, and when Jack came out, she pressed a closed fist against her mouth and bowed her head a little more with each step he took toward her. In her eyes, she was as far from pretty as anyone could be, if only she knew how she looked through his; she'd be surprised.

''What are ye cryin' 'bout?''

It came out more brusque than it should have and only made her sobs louder. She expected him to walk away; he was a pirate, after all, and she didn't think that a few tears would get to him, but they did, and he crouched down in front of her. ''Elizabeth,'' he coached her, deliberately being more gentle with her than he was before, her gaze slow and precise as she sought out his. ''Come on, love, out with it.''

She shook her head and wiped the tears from her eyes quickly, as if trying to cover it all up, like it hadn't happened and like she hadn't burst out in tears out of plain jealousy, an emotion that had overcome her out of the blue, even though it had been there longer than she was ready to admit. She'd never been jealous before, of anything or anyone. She had no reason to be; she always got whatever she wanted, well, whatever money could buy anyway; love was a whole other thing, though not usually an issue either. She was usually the girl that others envied, the girl that stole men's hearts because she could, and because, when properly groomed and all gussied up, she looked irresistible. Jack thought differently because, to him, she was at her most irresistible when she wasn't trying to be 'pretty' at all.

Like now.

She had been wearing her heart out on her sleeve all along, but tonight she had gone all out with the tears. He'd hoped for them, even evoked them by bringing the spirited beauty aboard, a vixen behind closed quarters with her red hair, red fingernails and red lips. He found himself caught in a red haze; everything was red, except for her eyes that were piercing, bewitching even. She as easily put a spell on him as he had on her; his tattered appearance and pirate charm had drawn her to him and she had sealed the deal with a kiss.

Like a gentleman he had kept his hands to himself, had let her into his cabin first and had allowed her to make the first move, but it wasn't all out of kindness because, normally, he would've already been all over the girl and would have had her half undressed before she would know what had hit her. He just wasn't into it. He couldn't even properly touch the girl without thinking of the chaste Miss Swann, so different than the woman he had picked up in Tortuga, but none the tempting.

Finally he had sent the belle on her way with a handful of golden coins and a promise that, if she got them a room, he would meet her there. He didn't.

''Are ye okay?'' he asked the distressed damsel in front of him, thinking of how he was always holding back with her and was always trying to do the right thing when it came to her. If she was any other girl, he would have showed her no mercy. He watched her search for the words, but not find any. She even looked to him for answers, but he didn't know which questions she wanted answered. ''Jack,'' was all she finally managed, a cry for help. He, as a reflex, opened his mouth to add the 'captain' and that was when she kissed him.

He instantly complied when he felt her lips against his, but he hadn't seen it coming and fell back, pulling her down with him, his hands placed in the gentle curve of her hips. He ran the tips of his thumbs against the smooth skin of her stomach and grinned at the darkened shade of it when he managed to get a peek of it. She squirmed against him as he started to draw circles on her skin with his fingers, his pace slow, almost lazy, but he was in no hurry to pursue her any further; she wasn't ready for it, nor was her heart in it, not entirely, and no matter how right it may feel to him to have her like this, it didn't sit right with her, not yet. He knew that should give her the room and chance to think things over and be the man that she was convinced he was, the man that had passed on a perfectly fine and to die for lass, and not the man that had made her cry just so he would be more certain of his case.

He let his actions speak for him and removed his hands from her waist to her upper arms, his fingers gently pressing into her skin as she began to push her upwards. Her hair fell down her face like a waterfall, creating their own little world for the few seconds that they were stuck in it, just staring at each other with their faces inches apart, his will strong while hers was about ready to come spiraling down. Her hands lay unmoving on his chest, feeling the warmth of it, the muscle, the realness. ''In over yer pretty head, aren't ye, lass?''

It all came down from there.

Elizabeth's hands went to her hair in distress, but before she could fall into him, he pushed her even further upwards while he scrambled up into a sitting position and she ended up on her knees, one on either side of him. She covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. ''I don't know what I'm doing, Jack.''

''Now, now,'' he began, placing his hands on her upper thighs, '' 's only natural to stumble about at first; experience comes with age, after all.''

''Jack...'' She let her hands fall from her face. ''I wasn't referring to that.''

''To what, love?'' he lightheartedly inquired with a glimmer in his eyes.

''You are impossible to talk to,'' she said, trying to hide away the faintest pout as she lowered her head.

He gave her thighs a gentle squeeze. ''I was just pullin' yer leg.'' She was unresponsive and he lifted his hand from her leg and brought his fingertips to her chin, getting her to look at him again. ''Tell ol' Jack what's wrong.''

She looked at him briefly before tilting her head back sharply and pulling away from his touch. ''It's nothing.'' Her hands went down to his and pushed them aside without looking at him. ''I should be getting to bed.''

He reluctantly lost touch with her and watched in silence as she got up and turned her back to him, planning to walk away from him in a not so ladylike manner. It left him with a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling in his stomach. ''Yer jealous!'' he lashed out at her, not getting up until he had repeated the statement, only adding a name to it the second time around. ''Yer jealous of the red-head.''

It was then that she turned back around to face him. ''You don't even have the decency to remember her name,'' she accused, one hand held out to him with its palm up.

''The lass's name ain't of importance, now ain't it? Yer envy is.'' He eyed her, the same glint in his eyes as before as she crossed her arms and took on a defensive stand. He smiled. '' 's best to come clean, love; denial does nothing for ye.''

''I am not jealous, Jack.''

He brought his index finger to his lips, as if in some deep thought, before taking a step toward her and bringing his hand back up to the side of his face, his index finger up. ''Liar. Ye wouldn't 'ave been cryin' yer eyes out otherwise.''

Elizabeth shrugged, her arms going around herself now. ''Occasionally I cry.''

''And occasionally yer bound to get jealous, too. Aren't I right?'' he finished off with a pleased grin.

She rolled her eyes and said, ''I'm going to bed'' She knew how wavering she sounded. He had her trapped; he had her back against the ship's railing and he was blocking her way. ''Are ye now?''

''Jack,'' she said, needing her affliction to keep him at what distance she could.

He didn't know how close he was to the truth.

He was right.

And he knew that.

''Just admit it, Lizzie,'' he affectionately taunted.

''I'm not jealous,'' she said again. ''There is absolutely nothing to be jealous about! You are a free man, Jack, and you can do as you please.''

''Can I now?''

''Don't,'' she told him as he began to lean in to her.

''Ah, now yer stoppin' me, are ye?''

''Yes. Yes, I am''.

He nodded. '' 's fair. I stopped ye, but then again, I've full control of my actions, when ye couldn't stop yerself as I recall.'' He took a step forward, sealing what room that had been left between them before. ''I could've taken advantage of that opportune moment, of yer weakness. 't was the perfect moment,'' he added, looking her in the eyes before taking that same step back. ''Remember that when yer thinkin' bad of Cap'n Jack Sparrow again and remember that I ain't as bad as I look. ''

''Jack.'' She reached out to touch him, but he took a quick step back. ''Ah ah, no touchin', love. I abided by yer wishes and now ye will be so kind as to do the same with me one.'' She couldn't get a word in. ''Go to bed, Elizabeth.''

He gave her, her space and there was nothing left for her to do, but to take it. She past him, holding her arms close to her body, leaving promises unmade as she started on her way to the stairs that would lead her below deck.

She wouldn't have been able to keep those promises anyway.

They were better left unmade. Unpromised.

''The ocean's endless, love, so don't think that yer the only one,'' were his parting words to her.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked back at him.

No, he wasn't as bad as he looked (at all).

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Please review? (: I like to think that this story turned out, I guess, better than my first Jack/Elizabeth story because, to me, there's just a little more to it, but you might disagree, so let me know what you think of this one piece. It's more than welcome and definitely appreciated. Thanks. :)